


Gingerly, yes.

by regsregis



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Atlas CEO Rhys, Figging, Hyperion CEO Jack, M/M, PVP, Rimming, hooo booyyy, rival ceo au now lovingly dubbed the punverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-31
Updated: 2017-05-31
Packaged: 2018-11-07 04:02:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11050920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/regsregis/pseuds/regsregis
Summary: hello here i am bringing you all the filth you need





	Gingerly, yes.

**Author's Note:**

> a follow up to High Voltage!

Rhys knows a challenge when he sees one. And the mocking line of code blinking back at him was exactly that, found amongst the drafts of a deal with Hyperion they would hopefully be signing soon and casually slipped between the rival CEO’s commentary on what could still be improved.

He has had a splendid day today, trailing his eyes after his rival, the corner of his lips quirking ever the slightest whenever he spotted the other man hobble, a barely noticeable shift in the way he carried himself and something one wouldn’t spot unless they knew what they were looking for. And oh god but Rhys -knew-. What with being the whole rhyson for that and all, you know, giving Handsome Jack a limp could easily go to a guy’s head like that. So he did not say anything when a stack of datapads was deposited into his PA’s arms and Jack sent him a wink. 

He hadn’t said anything by the end of the day either, simply shaking hands with the other CEO with a curt nod of his head, Jack’s grip erring on too-hard despite it having no effect on the metal and Rhys returned the gesture in kind, leaving angry red marks crisscrossing the other’s skin.

The first thing he finally said was a clipped ‘Hyperion’ the moment he stepped over the doorstep leading into Jack’s apartment, front door sliding open once he keyed in the password found within the code.. He had been here before, once or twice, lead by an insistent hand tugging at his tie and with eyes blown wide at the sensation of teeth sinking into his bottom lip. This, right now, was completely different, detached in a way, and feeling far more business-like. And that’s how he knew it was Hyperion and Atlas today and not Jack and Rhys, at least, not now. The place was literally dripping with that gaudy, dubious ‘handsomeness’ and Jack looked at odds with the decor, as he usually did, with his lousy clothing and patches barely keeping his sweater holding together. 

“Atlas. Glad that you’ve found my invitation.” 

“You’re not particularly subtle.” That was mostly a lie, as far as Jack and subtle went, it was pretty damn stealthy by his standards. Not that Rhys would give him any credit for that. On principle and just because. 

“I don’t need to. You came.” That he did, and that he’ll most do later today too, judging by Jack’s predatory look. The man was clearly out for some revenge. “Hope you like spicy food because that’s what’s on the menu today…” Rhys had a vague feeling the other man wasn’t referring to any actual food.

“Am I going to enjoy that?” 

“Depends…” the smirk on Jack’s lips was positively -evil- and as he patted the couch beside him, Rhys slowly started closing the distance. Not that he had any second-thoughts, too sure of himself and genuinely, too amused with the games they tended to play. “Now lose those fancy clothes of yours.”

Now, slow was good, good in the way it made Jack’s eyes lit up with barely contained excitement as he followed the movement of his hand, fingers deftly unclasping the chainlink holding the sides of his collar together before moving to work the vest open. Rhys carefully measured each step he took, letting every element of his clothing carelessly drop to the floor, first the vest then the shirt. By the time he has reached the other man, he had his belt folded in one hand, the metal one skimming over the fly of his trousers before he tucked the stiff leather under Jack’s chin, forcing him to tear his eyes from the waistband and up, to meet his.

“So, spicy’s on the menu, what’cha got in mind exactly?”

“A hostile takeover.” And with a triumphant cackle, rough hands dragged him forward and onto the couch, a brief struggle he let Jack win and he found himself splayed on his back and with a warm, rather handsy weight sprawled on top of him. There were lips pressing to his to eagerly swallow his own amused chuckle and fingers drifting over his front to pinch and squeeze and leave thin lines of raised flesh in their wake. “Listen, Atlas, you gonna finish getting nice and comfty here, I just gotta grab a couple of thing, kay?” So, that was the game Jack wanted to play, stay in their carefully crafted CEO roles for the time being. Rhys could certainly roll with that. Or, alternatively, he could make Jack regret that. He opted for the latter option, for now, simply gracing the request slash order with a tight nod of his head. 

Jack was back after a short while, clearly having prepared everything beforehand, and accompanied by a fresh, crisp smell of something vaguely soapy. ‘Scented stuff, huh?’ Rhys thought but decided to leave inquires for later, choosing to go back to folding his discarded clothes over the armrest. He’d rather not return to the suite assigned to Atlas guests looking like someone has dragged him through the ventilation systems. The other man came to a halt just before him, their previous positions reversed and a forewarning that Jack most probably intended to reverse their positions from the last time, if not literally, then at the very least, figuratively. A nondescript bottle with an all-too familiar clear liquid bounced off of the couch and stayed there while a simple plate carrying the source of that intense scent was presented just before his eyes.

“Do you know what it is?”

“Food.” That much he could tell, a sixth sense of a survivalist. Or a foodie. “Ginger I think, never had it raw.”

It was peeled and carved, tapered at one and and flared at the other, the only indicator of what it really was, it’s smell, clearly associated in Rhys’ mind with mercenary day’s baking.

“Good. Some consider it a strong aphrodisiac, ‘s got all those oils and what nots. Do you know where it goes?”

Well, duh, obviously, and so Rhys let his mouth fall open in anticipation.

“God. Rhys, no!” For a second, the mask of an intergalactic corporation’s president dropped, Jack’s eyes crinkling in the corners with something softer, if still madly amused, the moment passing as quickly as it sparked. “Don’t trip over yourself Atlas, trying to get your mouth around just anything.” 

The implication left in the wake of Jack’s words… it did not bode well, did it? 

“Gonna sting at first but a big bad CEO like you can handle a little bit of bite, hmm? It will be worth it in the long run.” That had his attention, the stinging part, not the annoying cooing and just to show how much it got on his nerves, Rhys delivered his vengeance with a swift kick to the other’s shin.

“If you say so. I’m suing you if it won’t.”

“You tell me you don’t like it…” there came a noncommittal shrug of one shoulder, “you don’t, that’s all. Besides,” and then he was urged to move, kneeling up on the couch with his front slung over the backrest, knees splayed wide and ankles crossed, “you have literally electrocut Hyperion’s crown jewels, the only person doing any sueing will…” the last word was punctuated with a heavy hand coming to land against his left ass cheek, “...be…” and the right, “...me.” Whatever snarky reply Rhys had, it hitched in his throat in a response to a sharp bite placed against the flesh of his backside.

So far so good, Rhys thought, the prelude to whatever Jack had in mind was absolutely delightful as the older man run his tongue in long stripes over the curve of his ass, greedily pawing at the supple flesh, and then, dipped between it. Hot and slick and just on the right side of curious, drawing little pleased huffs out of him. He had to give it to him, for once Jack was thorough, working his tongue over the stretch of sensitive flesh, trying to nudge past the tight ring of muscles and, once failing, pulling his cheeks further apart for better access. But, diligent as he was, Jack was also teasing, maybe not intentionally but the kitten licks he spared in between more committed ones, did nothing beside serving to further the slowly beginning to build frustration.

And so, a cybernetic hand snuck behind his back, grabbing a fistful of hair to get the other man all the more intimately acquainted with his ass. 

Now, better. He could feel rapid bursts of hot air exhaled just below the base of his spine, which, all in all, was good, meaning Jack wasn’t going to suffocate all that easily. Although, what a glorious way to go it would be. He eased the grip in favour of lightly scratching his fingertips over the crown of the other’s head, as much of a reward as it was an incentive to keep going. In a rare instance of compliance, Jack seemed more than happy to oblige, digging his fingers into the supple flesh that fraction harder and pressing a pleased hum into his skin. The tongue alternating now between nearly grinding and trying to wriggle inside of him brought out more happy hums and little purrs, the sounds turning into a single, disappointed whine when the contact was broken, cool air hitting his damp skin. A moment of silence hanged between them, filled only with harsh gasps, both for the same reason as they were for different.

“You know,” Rhys shifted his body slightly to face the other man, his eyes however, stayed locked onto his metal fingertips, the plates shifting to give way to sharp points, “I wouldn’t mind if you kept it at that. Could -make- you continue,” a smirk curled the corner of his lips as he kept nonchalantly examining the ‘interfacing nodules’, at least that’s what his engineers have been calling what was essentially, claws, “get you on your back again, Hyperion, so you couldn’t escape, grind my ass down till you stopped breathing.” He followed his bold statement with a crooked grin, eyebrows tilted in a mocking expression, only to meet a more amused than startled look on the other’s face.

“Cute, Atlas. Who’d fuck you if I died?” Perhaps his little threat could have sparked the expected reaction if they hadn’t known each other so well by now, still, totally worth a shot even though it got him an iron grip wrapping around his flesh hand. Seemed like Jack had learned his lesson finally, disregarding the unyielding metal in favour of something he clearly had advantage over, twisting Rhys’ arm to press it against his back. 

“You give yourself too much credit, handsome.” He had to support himself up now with his cybernetic arm, else he’d very much like to reach behind and maybe send a little jolt of electricity through that smug asshole’s dick. Or arm. Or whatever would be within his reach. Still, the grip was only inches away from being truly painful and that only made his next words or the more stingy. “With Atlas’ and Hyperion’s combined powers I’d build…” Jack leaned over him bodily, free hand running over his front and dipping between his legs to give a few fleeting touches, sparking another bout of frustration and effectively making his thoughts scatter, “...I dunno, a fuck machine? At least it would keep it’s mouth shut.” That did not serve to deter the older man in his advances at all, a chuckle rumbling through his whole body as he brushed his lips to Rhys ear and gave a small nip to the shell of it. 

“Well then, here’s hoping I can make you change your mind Atlas, so you abandon your vile plan.” The rough texture of Jack’s jacket nicely contrasted with the softness of his worn out sweater, the cold buckles pressing into his skin sending a shiver running up his spine and a mirrored shiver through the body over him. At the very least, Rhys knew he wasn’t the only one suffering here, wiggling his ass slightly so he could feel the hardness pressing into his lower back all the better.

They usually tried to keep business talk out of the bedroom but the mutually shared desire to take over the rival company was clear as day, however, it was rather unusual for Jack to let go of the topic this easily. Perhaps because he was too busy with something else, still keeping Rhys’ wrist in a death grip and working the bottle of lube open to generously dribble it over the knob of ginger. 

About as thick as his thumb and with the help of slick gel, it slipped in easily, somehow coarse to the touch and leaving nothing more but some residual itch in its wake before it was fully lodged in, held in place by the thicker base.

Rhys did not see stars behind closed eyes, no fireworks, not until Jack moved to flop onto the couch beside him and then proceeded to pull him across his lap. The sudden movement had him slightly clenching his muscles and a surprised sigh escaped him at the strange sensation. 

Still, nothing mindblowing. 

It took a couple of minutes for the feeling to go from mildly interesting to borderline uncomfortable, a gradually increasing burn spreading outwards and shooting through his body in a quiver. 

“Jack?” He… might have been somewhat alarmed, squirming slightly to find a better position, trying to ease the sting and at the same time, discretely rub himself against Jack’s still clothed thigh, the few moments of peace earlier only managing to bring the need trapped between them a notch or so down. 

“Shh…” Fingers, so far running along the curve of his spine, moved to thrumm against his backside. “So, about that Atlas and Hyperion combined powers…” Jack’s voice was back to its cocky, commandeering tone, “...you wanna know what I’m gonna do once I turn Atlas into one of my branches?” Seemed like the topic has not been in fact abandoned and the cunning CEO was only waiting for the right opportunity to bring it up again.

“Fuck no!” It was beginning to grow harder to concentrate, still trying to gently roll his hips, seeking some, any, friction and keeping his muscles relaxed because, as he quickly found out, tightening them only served to send another wave of sting. The older man must have probably picked up on his intentions, his hand lifting off before it was brought down with enough strength to force a surprised yelp out of him.

“Wrong answer, Atlas.” This time, the pawing and pulling at the full flesh of his ass was less welcomed, jostling about the root still inside of him. His heart rattled in his chest, threatening to burst through his ribs and sending blood rushing in all directions, to his flushed face and ears, south to his treacherous dick and to the muscles straining around the previously innocently looking knob of ginger. It felt like a fever breaking out, rapid pulsing centered deeper within him and the mechanical hand curling into a tighter grip, has left gashes torn in the fabric of the couch. 

His lack of answer brought on a couple more stinging smacks, coming at irregular intervals, surprising him each time and making him stiffen up every time without a fail. The mixed sensations kept washing over him, sending his mind reeling and body trembling.

“Okay! Okay, alright, tell me.” There was no shame in giving Jack what he wanted, at least, not in the privacy of his apartment because Rhys would rather be skinned alive than give the man an inch of leverage on professional grounds. Here, it was okay to let everything out.

“Good boy.” At the very least, Jack eased on the slaps, opting for idly running his blunt nails over the reddened flesh. It burned inside of him but stung outside, the light scratches making goosebumps rise in their wake and sending a tremor to settle in his heaving chest. It was that kind of ache, for lack of better word, an ache an an itch that seemed to grow with each breath, sparked in the aftermath of the abuse. A momentary break settled over him like an oversized blanket, the stillness keeping more extreme sensation at bay and those still present, thrumming through his body with a raw buzz. That was, until Jack grew bored and his fingers drifted back to the portion of the root still outside, flicking it with one finger and forcing the simmered down fire to roar again.

”Oh what I will -not- do once I get my hands on Atlas…” Rhys pressed his face into the couch, rubbing his burning cheek against it in search for some comfort, his sweaty hair now sticking to his face. God, but did Jack love the sound of his voice. “First thing first, I will demote their silly little CEO to an obedient pet.” Jack’s hands returned to kneading at the swell of his ass, making him shiver every time the touch disappeared, in anticipation of an upcoming slap, not one delivered just yet. He produced a small whimper of protest, partly to the idea and partly to the insistent sting. “Slap a collar on you Atlas, you’re gonna look so good, might gonna consider fucking you in front of a mirror.” That definitely brought a more animated reaction out of him, a louder ‘no’ pushed between pants.

“No? What is it? Got something against mirrors? Always pegged you for a little egoistic and self-obsessed thing.” Well, Jack wasn’t wrong, but that wasn’t the reason at all, and Rhys twisted his body slightly, gritting his teeth through another burst of pain.

“No, ‘s just… ‘m ‘fraid you won’t be able to tear your eyes from yourself you giant narcissus.” As he spoke, some of his bravado returned, enough to make him break into his famous, overly-pleased smirk. His poking however, instead of the expected slap on the ass, got him a loud ring of laughter shaking through the other man and Rhys was torn which one he’d have liked better. 

“True.” Jack’s index finger bumped into his nose, the gentle gesture followed with a hand raking through his hair to push it out of his eyes before he was forced with a grip around the base of his neck to fully lay down again. 

A couple lighter slaps were laid against his backside but by now, the older man was more interested in leaving red lines over his back and thighs, seemingly having slowly begin losing his own patience. It still was a miracle he lasted this long. 

“Come on Hyperion…” The effects were slowly wearing down by now, and as he shifted slightly on his knees to suggestively wiggle his ass, there was no spark of burn blooming across his flesh, the sting now staying at a steady, if still slightly overwhelming level. “...no need to act so ...gingerly around me.”

That did it for Jack, the man breaking now into a full-blown howl, accompanied by a strained and slightly goopy chuckle bubbling in Rhys’ chest. The tremors however, were enough to remind him of his situation and tugging at the rolled up sleeve of Jack’s shirt, he brought his attention back to himself.

“Enough.” Yeah, he definitely has had enough, groaning slightly as the offending root was slipped out of him with a pop. 

He wasn’t convinced flipping onto his back would be a good idea but there still was that persisting -itch- inside of him, begging to be scratched in the most delicious way and so, a few awkward slides forward had him laying on his front, ass in the air and legs bent. Even though Jack did not need any more incentive to reach again for the discarded bottle, Rhys still murmured a few drawn out pleas to get the man going, sure to make the name of the rival company roll off his tongue with the most obscene drawl he could muster. If he was to suffer through tomorrow’s negotiations, and his sore backside was telling him that yeah, sitting down was going to be a real bitch, so would Jack, each and every time ‘Hyperion’ would slip from Rhys’ lips, a reminder of this night. 

Fingers working him open were efficient and that was all that really counted, before a heavy weight settling over him and then inside of him forced a good couple of moans intermingling with a single word out of him. 

Jack might have been right, it was worth it, the oversensitivity bordering on painful and the hiss brushing over his heated skin as the other man realised some of the residue was now rubbing against his dick. Rhys let out a delighted chuckle.

-II-

On the following evening and one foot on the shuttle, Rhys turned around with a wolfish smile.

“Looking forward to our next meeting, Hyperion. Gotta get back at you for driving such -hard- negotiations.”

Jack shifted his weight from one foot to the other, stealing a glance over his shoulder and once he deemed their surroundings to be clear, he forced himself into the younger man’s personal space.

“Can’t wait, Rhysie.”

**Author's Note:**

> you can see where i got really tired but i hope it doesn't end up on an unsatisfactory note


End file.
